Sherbrooke, Quebec 2011: Our father catches a freezer full and every weekend we gag as we remove their heads and vital organs.

Brooklyn, 2010: Everyone remembers their first trip to New York in the summertime.

Fort Lauderdale, 2011: All the women wear the vast stretching sun hats by the pool including Mum, who says melanoma is her biggest fear next to bone loss and breast cancer.

PNW, 2013: Tourists on the BC ferry range from retired Australian couples to backpacking Norwegians to shadowy, slouching outliers taking relief from the steam of Vancouver’s chinatown. Their greasy hair bows toward the double paned windows as they watch the impossible landmasses go by. On the observatory deck, even we become tourists, setting portraits against the dark green haze.

Pacific Ocean, 2013: Going to Vancouver Island, the motion of the BC Ferry stirs it into such a frenzy — we can hardly believe our eyes. We have caused this change, made the water act this way. We have turned it into this thing it is now.